


Let Me Blow You...Away!

by orphan_account



Category: Red vs. Blue, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Night Club AU, and they have no clue, and they're like well shit dude it's been donut behind that glory hole, basically donut blows them all, glory hole au, grifnut, is that a thing?, rvb, sargenut, simnit, skater club au, until he starts just fucking baggin on them at practice, whatever, whatevs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: fic where Donut is the guy that blows everyone at the glory hole in a bar called Blood Gulch and the red team visits him often without ever knowing it’s him so when he’s actually hanging with them and makes a sexual innuendo and they’re like “Donut nO” he just smirks smugly because he’s literally sucked all of their dicks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Blow You...Away!

**Author's Note:**

> "But Vavvy, you can't ship the whole Red Team!"  
> Oh yeah? /Watch me/.
> 
> Btw, I've only watched two seasons of RvB

The Blood Gulch night club.  
  
Incredibly popular for its modern music, sleek style, and it's... entertainment.  
  
Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays were their most popular nights, and anyone who attempted to use the men's restroom would know exactly why. On that night, a particular man was there, one that nobody knew the identity of. No one even knew if he officially worked there or got paid for his services, but he was certain to be present. He was on the other side of a glory hole, and his mouth was incredibly talented; he never spoke a word, but he did his job well, and any man who visited him was doomed to come back for more.  
  
Not excluded from this were three young men men by the names of Richard Simmons, Dexter Grif, and 'Sarge'; all of which knew each other, but none visited on the same day, never crossing paths or knowing of the others' little shared hobby.  
  
And so Tuesday, Richard Simmons visited the mystery man.  
  
Richard, or rather Dick, was a tall, skinny man with spiked light brown hair, pale freckled-spattered skin, and green eyes. He slid into the club quietly, easily weaving through the hoards of people and into the men's bathroom; it was fairly empty so early in the night besides a couple men at the urinals or the shifty dealer that kept to himself unless prompted otherwise, and Simmons ducked into the second to last stall without so much as a glance in his direction. He knocked on the door separating him from the last stall and a series of knocks back told him that the person he was searching for was there.  
  
"Shit, I've been looking forward to this all week." He whispered against the thin barrier, unzipping his pants hurriedly, and the silence did nothing to leave him disheartened; he'd learned that the other man, whoever he was, never spoke, and was perfectly content with it. "I, uh, I hope you don't mind that I brought a flavored condom this time. Y'know, if you like cherry. I just thought it'd be nice." One knock on the side of the door gave appreciation for the little gift, and Simmons smiled as he stroked himself hard and slipped on the condom.  
  
He pushed his cock through the makeshift hole and hissed when a soft hand wrapped around it, giving it a few playful pumps before a tongue was teasing at his slit. "F-fuck that's good." He whined low in his throat, trying hard to keep still as the man took his length into his hot mouth, swallowing around it to create an oh-so-sweet suction that made Simmons have to bite back a moan.  
  
"God damn, that's great. I... f- _fuck_." Simmons fisted one hand into his own hair, tugging hard, while the other found purchase on the back of the toilet seat, keeping himself steady. The other man flicked his tongue expertly, suckling on the tip before taking him in deep and bobbing his head with quick, practiced motions. Simmons moved his hand from his hair to bite at his knuckles, silence becoming harder to accomplish as he neared climax.  
  
"Y-yes! Gri-God!" He squeaked as he came, spilling into the barrier, and the comforting mouth disappeared. Simmons peeled the condom off and tied it before tossing it in the personal bin, the cherry flavoring making his hands slightly sticky.  
  
"I.. uh, thank you. Not to sound like a loser or anything, but I can't help but wonder how that cherry taste in your mouth." He murmured lightly, and a small sigh escaped him when no answer came. "Well... thanks again." He chuckled before leaving to wash his hands.  
  
-  
  
"Suck it, Blues!" The team of four yelled as they rolled past the spray-painted base of their rivals on the way to practice, laughing at the indignant yells that followed. They entered their own 'base', sprayed red with their serpent logo, and stretched, prepping for practice.  
  
"So, Sarge, what's the plan today?" Grif, a chubby man with dark skin and near-black hair, asked, pulling an orange skateboard from his bag. The man in question, their leader, merely rolled his eyes.  
  
"Same thing we do every day, Grif. We're going to practice our routine and beat those filthy Blues at the next competition." He produced his own bright red skateboard, patting it lovingly.  
  
"Gettin' kinda old for competitions, eh boss? Ain't the cut off twenty-seven?" Grif teased the captain edging on twenty-five, and Sarge growled at him.  
  
"Simmons, I will give you fifteen dollars to punch Grif in the face."   
  
"On it, sir." The thin man hopped up from where he was polishing his maroon scooter and Grif pushed him away, the two laughing.  
  
"Hey, guys! My uncle got me some new skates!" Donut, the youngest man, spoke up with a naive grin. He had blond hair shaven into an unspiked mohawk and sun-kissed skin; in his hands were pink roller skates, and the others burst into snickers at them.  
  
"Just when we thought you couldn't get any gayer, you bring out these pink fucking barbie skates." Simmons snorted, elbowing Grif, and the other chortled.  
  
"They're not pink! They're lightish red! And I'll have you know that these are the best skates that money can buy!" He held them up higher to show his appreciation and the laughter only rose in volume. His cheeks reddened and he huffed indignantly, sitting to lace them on his feet. "Idiots." He mumbled under his breath. "They wouldn't be laughing very long if they-"  
  
"Holy shit, Donut. You are such a fucking loser." Grif interrupted, kicking off in the direction of a nearby ramp, and the other two followed, falling into an easy pattern. Donut was only sour for a moment before he perked up again, this time with an idea for revenge, and stood to do a few laps before kicking off to join the others.  
  
"Hey! Hey, Simmons!" He called, doing a quick spin before looping around the scooter. "Let me blow you... away!" He squealed, purposefully pausing before saying the last word, and Simmons rolled his eyes.  
  
"I don't want you blowing anything that has to do with me." He groused, doing a sharp turn, and Donut giggled before following.  
  
"That's a silly thing for you to say."  
  
"And why's that, Donut?" Simmon's voice dripped with sarcasm as Donut matched his pace.  
  
"Oh, no reason. I've been thinking, though." He smirked, tapping his fingers on his shorts much too short and tight to be made for men. "Sarge's skateboard is such a pretty color."  
  
"Okay? If you're trying to get me to help you steal his skateboard, it's not gonna happen."  
  
"Nah, I just have an eye for color-"  
  
"Is that why you have pink skates?"  
  
"It's lightish red! Anyways, I'm just saying that it's my favorite color. Cherry red is just so... enticing, y'know? It leaves a nice taste in your mouth." Donut purred and Simmons skidded to a halt, face flushing.  
  
"Why do you say that?" He questioned, tone suddenly accusing, and Donut merely flashed a coy smile.  
  
"It's cherry red, isn't it? How come you look so flustered, hm?" Donut licked his lips slowly, eyeing Simmons down, and the older man shifted under his gaze.  
  
"Flustered? I'm not flustered. I just wanted to know why you think it's cherry red is all. Looks more candy apple to me." He blinked once before kicking off again and Donut smiled after him.  
  
-  
  
On Thursdays, a chubby Hawaiian man would enter the night club. He always managed to get lost in the crowd for a solid five minutes before he'd find the bar and down a quick shot. Afterwards, he mumbled something about having to piss to anyone that could hear before finding the bathroom and inconspicuously locking himself in the second to last stall.  
  
"Hey. You there?" He whispered, and a knocked pattern told him yes. "Awesome." He wasn't much for speaking, honestly, and he undid his pants quickly. It didn't take long for him to get hard and he slid on the condom he'd bought at the convenience store before pushing through the hole.  
  
"Uh, sorry I always were a condom. I mean, it's just 'cause I don't know you. Is that offensive? I dunno. I'm probabl-AH!" He cut off when a tongue pressed flat against the base of his sheathed cock, dragging up slowly. "Fuck, that feels good." He murmured as soft lips mouthed at his head and gentle hands massaged his balls. "Really fucking good."  
  
The other man took Grif in his mouth and he wasted no time in thrusting in. With a knock of approval, he let loose, bucking his hips forward to rut into the warm, wet throat over and over. The man worked with him, bobbing to meet his thrusts and never stopping his meticulous tongue-work.  
  
"Fuck, fuck, f-fuck, fuck,  _fuck!_ " Grif cursed over and over, hands braced against the wall. "S-Simmons!" He groaned the name unconsciously as he came, and he almost immediately regretted it.   
  
"I, uh, sorry I said a name." He mumbled as he disposed of the condom. "I didn't mean to. I... I don't know if that's offensive or not either. If it is, I'm sorry. He's... Um, I'll see you next week." He rushed out without another word, missing the faint giggling coming from the last stall.  
  
-  
  
"Suck it, Reds!" A blue van drove by the vandalized skate park, several of it's members sticking their heads and torsos out of the windows to screech at the practicing team.  
  
"Hey, fuck you!" Grif yelled after them, but was only met with whoops and calls. "Stupid fucking Blues. Just wait until we beat their asses."  
  
"We won't if you don't get off your lazy ass and practice, Grif!" Sarge barked, and Grif grumbled under his breath as he stood.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, Sarge. Whatever." He stretched lazily before gingerly dropping his skateboard to the ground.  
  
"Hey, come practice with me!" Donut offered, waving a hand, and Grif ignored him in favor of the ramps. Donut followed, however, eliciting an annoyed groan from the bigger man.  
  
"What do you want, Donut?" He resigned after pretending he didn't exist failed to make him go away.  
  
"I was just wondering if you want to hang out on Thursday!"  
  
"Donut, I would literally rather do anything than hang out with you. Besides, you know I have my stupid family night on that day." He lied easily, but Donut only grinned wider.  
  
"Oh, c'mon. Not even if I invite... Simmons?" He watched the color rise in Grif's already-dark cheeks, and he turned to yell at him.  
  
"Why would I care if you invite him?! He's a fucking idiot, just like you!" He shoved Donut's shoulder lightly but the younger man followed unphased.  
  
"Wow, that was sort of offensive. You wouldn't want to offend me, would you, Grif?" He winked at the stunned man before roller blading off in another direction. "Mount up!"  
  
-  
  
Saturdays were the night club's most busy day.  
  
Sarge wasn't particularly a fan of the noise and grinding eighteen-year-olds, and he wasted no time in making his way to the bathroom, glaring down anyone that dared to look his way. He ran fingers through his artificially-gray hair, cut into a military style, and took a deep, steadying breath before entering the second to last stall and knocking once against the wall on his right. A series of knocks followed and he couldn't help but grin as he prepped himself in an orderly fashion.  
  
"I've really needed this. M'damn team is driving me crazy. Got me all wound up. And that damn idiot with his shorts. S'not fair." He complained, sighing when he felt fingers ghost up his length and hot air blow against his tip.  
  
"I was wondering if I could do the, uh, the thing tonight?" He felt a smooth cheek press against his cock and the head nod. "T-that's good." Sarge hissed, feeling lips lock around him, and he jerked forward into the touch. "Fuck, okay." He gritted his teeth and began moving his hips, becoming rougher as the unknown man met him, and he lost himself in the feeling.  
  
"Fuck yeah, fucking.. Fucking I'm your Daddy! Fuck, god I'm you're Daddy!  _God_  yeah, I'm you're Daddy!" He grunted, slamming into the waiting mouth and only easing up with the flimsy wall separating them began to rattle. "God, Donut, you fucking  _tease_!" He whined quietly to no one in particular, and a faint moan escaped the unknown man. The sudden surprise sound only added to Sarge's arousal and he thrust in a handful more times before spurting his seed into the condom. He panted for a second before pulling back and ridding himself of the rubber.   
  
"Thanks for keeping my secret, yeah? Not that you know anybody, but yeah. Just... thanks."   
  
-  
  
"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Sarge yelled as an egg soared past his head. The other members of the Red Team ducked for cover as the Blue team threw more out of their car. "That's too far, Church! Don't make me kick Tucker's ass again!" He stomped his foot.  
  
"Dude, stop! He hits really hard!" They heard Tucker's voice from inside the truck.  
  
"I don't know. If he beats up you and you go to the hospital, I can be Church's new best friend."  
  
"Shut up, Caboose! That will never happen!" The Red team heard yelled before the engine growled and they took off.  
  
"I can't believe they threw eggs at us." Simmons whined, glaring at the wet spot on his shirt.  
  
"Yeah, what a fucking waste of eggs." Grif yawned, snickering when Simmon's hit him in the back of the head.  
  
"Just get back to practicing! Those assholes have no respect." Sarge murmured the last part to himself, starting when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Donut, looking exceptionally cute in blue-jean shorts and a neon pink tank top.  
  
"You okay, Sarge?" He asked, lower lip puffing out, and the leader clenched his fists.  
  
"I'm fine. They just need to learn their manners."  
  
"Don't worry. I respect you." He skated around the older man once, moving closer with the turn. "...Daddy." He bit his lip seductively and Sarge's eyes widened as he spluttered.  
  
"W-what?"  
  
"Nothing, Sarge!" He squealed happily, rollerblading around his team a few times and soaking up the confused eyes that followed him. "But, y'know..." He skidded to a stop, turning to face the mates that were now glaring at him.  
  
"My work has been  _really_  busy lately." He decided, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "And I think you guys could help to make it easier."  
  
"You're not getting free labor out of me." Grif immediately piped up, oblivious to his teammates' embarrassed expressions.  
  
"Oh, no no no!" Donut sang cheerily, doing a little trick. "I'm just saying, that if you let me show you my... potential at practices..." He grinned and saw the realization dawn on Grif's face. "I think I could blow you all... Individually, or in a group.... Away. With my talent, of course."   
  
The others all looked at one another, faces as red as their team, and seemed to come to a decision.  
  
"Well," Sarge spoke first, shoulders heaving with a sigh. "I think it's time we let the rookie show us what he's really capable of."

**Author's Note:**

> Loved this shit? Hated it more than your nOTP? tell me why, tell me where i fucked up, i wanna hear it all! leave me comments and/or kudos, reading comments good and bad really brighten up my shitty little day ;)
> 
> Good artist? Bad artist? Never drawn? Make fanart anyways! I will cry. But happily. But I will seriously cry.


End file.
